


Always Together

by oleanderedits



Series: 30 Days of Darlenn Challenge Nov 2015 [7]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU (LadyHawke), Angst, M/M, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderedits/pseuds/oleanderedits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and T-Dog stumble onto a secret shared between Glenn and Daryl after they go back for Merle.</p><p>30DayOTP Prompt Challenge Day 7 (Word Count: 4200; Challenge Count: 16500)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Together

“No one's going to miss him,” Morales said in an off-hand manner in an attempt to make Rick feel a little better about Merle getting left behind. It wasn't really working because as much as Rick thought the man needed to contained, leaving him to die just didn't sit well with him. No matter how bad he'd been.

Then Morales sighed and shook his head, eyes following the red car weaving across the road ahead of them, “Except Daryl. And Glenn. Maybe.”

“Daryl?” Rick asked, one eyebrow raised. “And maybe Glenn?” The first he hadn't met and assumed he'd be meeting once they were back at camp. The second was the Korean kid leading them back with the car alarm blaring. He was a good guy, if a little strange. He certainly hadn't acted like he appreciated Merle all that much. Though he had trusted his pet bobcat – and Rick really wanted to know the story behind that – to stay with the man while both he and Rick went to get the van and the distraction vehicle. The bobcat had followed the others down to the exit and was curled up in the back near the door, hissing at the others occasionally, clearly freaked out.

“Daryl's his brother,” Morales offered, looking out the window and off to the side. “He's usually out all day and we only really see him at night when he comes back from his hunts and checking his snares. He's friends with Glenn. Protective of him. Merle is, too. Merle... he's an asshole, but he watches out for Glenn. He and Glenn don't talk a lot. They aren't really friendly. I think it's just that Daryl's friends with Glenn, so Merle keeps an eye on him during the day. And Glenn sort of tolerates that.”

Rick let out a soft, knowing 'ah'. Even if he didn't know the details, he could still see the inherent awkwardness of the situation. Glenn was friendly and hadn't liked the idea of keeping Merle cuffed, but he'd gone along with it. He'd seen the sense in detaining the man. When he found out Merle hadn't made it out with the others, it was a good bet he'd be upset by it.

Morales sighed again, “I really hope it was quick. Even if I don't like the guy, no one deserves to go like that.”

…

The bobcat bolted out the back of the van as soon as the door was opened – and it had to be opened from outside because no one could get near the door without risking life and limb to it's teeth and claws. It raced across the gravel laden ground and barreled into Glenn's knees, knocking the kid down before it covered him in concerned purrs and headbutts. Everyone who had been gathered around him gave the two room. They were used to the wild animal calling him a friend and knew that if they strayed too close while it was being protective they could easily be seen as a threat.

Glenn laughed and rolled over so he could sit up properly and return the affection. But he wasn't the only one running to someone they'd missed. Rick followed behind the cat, though he bypassed the kid, and ran into the arms of his son and wife. His reunion overshadowing Glenn's for a good twenty minutes until Glenn stood up and looked around, asking loudly, “Where's Merle?”

The others in the camp, the ones that hadn't been there, looked around as well. Like they had only just noticed that Merle wasn't with the rest. Like he was completely forgettable when he wasn't there.

Andrea turned to T-Dog and Glenn's sight was drawn to him as well. His jaw clenched and Rick thought he saw the glint of tears forming in those panicked eyes, “T? Where's Merle?”

“I dropped the key.” For what little it was worth, the man looked genuinely apologetic.

Glenn stared at him in the dead silence that followed, his head shaking very slowly back and forth. The shaking sped up as denial hit and soon he was muttering 'no' under his breath. Like the world had just ended on him again. Morales started toward him, along with Dale, but Glenn backed up, one hand out as if he could hold them back. The bobcat reacted and was up and guarding Glenn, pacing back and forth, hunched and ready to pounce if anyone tried to get any closer.

“We have to go back,” Glenn said, spinning on his heel. He started for the truck.

Shane moved to follow, but the bobcat kept him at bay, “Glenn! It's two, three hours to sunset. You don't have enough light to get there and back.”

“He's dead,” Morales added, loudly and desperately. More concerned for Glenn than he'd ever been for Merle. “He was cuffed to that pipe and shouting the whole time. There's no way he didn't draw the geeks up.”

“Then I'm going back for his body!” Glenn yelled, turning about again. “I'm not leaving him there!”

“All that's gonna do is get you killed,” Rick spoke up before anyone else could, trying to keep his tone low and reasonable. “You go back, you do it in the morning. When you have the whole day to make your way back. You go now? When you'll be caught in the city after dark? You know that's too dangerous.”

Glenn stared at him, shaking visibly for several moments before his shoulders and head dropped and he nodded. He pressed the heel of one hand against his eyes, rubbing them. Then clicked his tongue to get the bobcat's attention. It turned to him and he waved and it stood down, slinking back to his side and rubbing up against his legs.

Rick took that as a sign he could approach, so he did. He kept his hands up and stopped when the bobcat growled, “Look, when you go back, I'll go with you. I cuffed him and gave the key to T-Dog. I should have been the one to stay and uncuff him while someone else got the van. That's on me. So I'll go with you and help you get whatever's left of him back here.”

“We have to bury him,” Glenn murmured, one of his hands curling into the bobcat's fur to sooth it. “And someone's going to have to tell Daryl.”

Rick nodded, “Morales told me he's out hunting most of the day usually. Comes back after sunset.”

“Yeah,” Glenn agreed, looking down, at the bobcat. He scratched at it's ears. “When he comes back, can you... I'll write it down. If you can give it to him...”

“You don't want to tell him yourself?” Rick asked quietly.

Glenn shook his head, “I can't. I'll be asleep.”

Rick couldn't help the raised eyebrows, “You could stay up and-”

“I'll be asleep,” Glenn said forcefully, firmly. He raised his eyes to meet Rick's. “I'll write it down. Just give it to him when he asks about Merle.”

…

Rick watched Glenn head off to into the woods behind the Dixon camp he seemed to share. He'd said he needed to pee before he got ready to sleep and walked off before anyone could protest. The bobcat followed as it always did. Rick waited until he was out of sight before glancing down at the paper Glenn had given him. Then he looked around the fire at the others who seemed to feel as equally awkward as he did.

“What's with him sleeping?” Rick asked, curious and slightly concerned. “He said he couldn't tell Daryl himself because he'd be in bed.”

“We're ah... we're not really sure?” Shane answered, poking at the fire with a stick. “He always goes off for a nature call before bed. Sleeps all night. Dixons don't ever let us near his tent to check on him.”

“We think he might have a medical condition,” Dale offered with a shrug. “But if he does, he and the Dixons, they aren't willing to talk about it. He's usually a lot more friendly when he's around. This thing with Merle, it's really upset him.”

T-Dog sat with his arms around him, looking into the fire. He'd been quiet since they got back. Avoided Glenn for the most part. Every time the kid had looked at him, he'd looked away in guilt. Dale patted the man's back and he lifted his head to be met with a smile he couldn't return.

Rick felt for him. By an accident that Rick felt he was the major contributor to (since Rick had given him the keys), T had condemned a man to die. And die in one of the more horrific ways possible. He was going to have to live with that the rest of his life. All because he dropped some stupid keys.

“Today would have been a great day for Daryl to get back early,” Andrea muttered, sighing and leaning into her sister. “It's not like he brings in much as it is.”

“He brings in enough,” Lori admonished quietly. “I don't really like squirrel and rabbit, either. But his snares bring in actual meat. Fresh meat. We need that.”

“Five squirrels every couple days doesn't feed this group,” Andrea returned, though there wasn't any real bite to her words. She just sounded tired and like she wanted it over with. “Not enough for the storm he'll bring when he finds out.”

Rick lifted his eyes to look at her, “You think he'll be a problem?”

“No doubt about it,” Dale answered for her and for the group. “It's not going to be pretty.”

…

Daryl, the man everyone was waiting for, wandered back into camp about two hours after sunset, a string of dead squirrels over his shoulder and a crossbow hanging from his left hand. He stomped his way through the tents and fires to the main cook fire and dropped the bow next to a log as he grinned at Jacqui and Lori, “Got twelve today. Would have had a hare, too, but some jackass wildcat got to it before I could. Gonna have to tell Glenn to keep his beast under control.”

The attempt at a joke fell flat, however, through no fault of Daryl's, and he snorted, “Fine then. Be that way.” He dropped the squirrels on the ground and turned, giving a sharp whistle. A strangely shaped and colored animal darted out of the woods to scurry up his legs and into his arms before it settled on his shoulders. He smiled at it before walking back toward his own tent, holding a conversation with the creature, “Merle'll think it's funny. Don't need anyone else to. Ain't that right?”

“Daryl,” Shane called right after, voice a lot quieter. Like he was afraid to draw attention. “Need to talk to you, man.”

Daryl slowed up, the odd animal that Rick thought looked a little like a weasel (though as far as he knew weasels didn't have fur that went from bright yellow to black) lifting its head as if it were a guard atop a tower. Daryl looked at Shane with wary expectation, “Yeah? 'Bout what?”

“Glenn wanted me to give this to you,” Rick said before Shane could say anything more. Glenn had been very clear that Daryl had to read the note. That if he didn't want Daryl going off like a shotgun, the note had to be read first.

Daryl's brows shot up and he took it, eyeing Rick. Of course, having not seen Rick come into camp, he had no reason to trust him. Except for the use of Glenn's name. He tilted his head and moved back toward the fire, crouching down to get the light and flip the paper open. One hand lifted up to pet the strange animal while he did so.

Rick could see the shift in Daryl's demeanor as he got to the part about Merle being left for dead. The man pressed the heel of his free hand into his eyes in the same way Glenn had. Wiped at them and tried to pretend he wasn't tearing up. He shook his head and licked his lips before he crumpled the paper up and tossed it into the fire.

“Okay,” he eventually said, nodding and doing his best not to get emotional. He was standing up and taking a deep breath, when T-Dog spoke.

“He's alive.”

All heads snapped to him.

T-Dog was still staring at the fire, voice so empty, “I chained the door. Maybe half a dozen geeks could fit in that stairwell. Not enough to break the door. Not that chain. Not that padlock. He's alive.”

Rick and Shane were on Daryl before he could get even an inch closer to T. The animal on Daryl's shoulder, however, was much faster. And a much better jumper. It crossed the fifteen feet between the two in a single leap, hissing and biting as if channeling Daryl's anger.

Dale backed off in fear and it was Andrea that stopped it's attack with a heavy branch swung like a baseball bat to knock it away. The screams and shouts T-Dog had released at the attack were eclipsed by the strangled 'No!' from Daryl.

“Leave him alone!” he wrenched his arm out of Rick's grasp and somehow managed to push Shane away before he scrambled across the ground to wrap himself around the stunned animal. Shielding it with his body. He glared at Andrea, snarled, “You leave him the hell alone! He ain't done nothing wrong!”

“He attacked T!” she shouted back, though she did drop the branch. “Look at what he did to him!”

“Bastard deserved it!” Daryl defended as he started to get to his feet, the animal whining in his arms, clearly badly injured. “He left my brother to die! He let all of you think Merle was dead! He let Glenn think he was dead! He deserved what he got! And more!”

Shane tried to grab at Daryl again and the man jerked himself away violently, stumbling backwards until there was space around him on all sides. Daryl wasn't bothering to hide the angry tears now, “He could have gone back for him already! Now he's up on a roof, alone! Thinkin' we abandoned him!”

“I'm sorry,” Rick said into the guilty silence that followed. “I didn't know he was still alive, but it's my fault he's up there. And it's my fault Glenn didn't head back already. I convinced him it would be better to get your brother's body in the morning. I'm sorry.”

Daryl looked at him before looking down and nodding, “Yeah. Glenn said that. He weren't mad at you.”

Rick nodded, stepping closer but keeping his hands where they were clearly visible, “If you want... we could try to head back for him now.”

“Nah,” Daryl answered, shaking his head, “Glenn's asleep. Can't do it without him. He's the one that knows the city.”

“We could wake him up-”

“He's asleep,” Daryl said forcefully, firmly, and Rick had a flash of deja vu. “We have to wait until morning.”

“Okay,” Rick backed off, hands going to his hips. The tension in the camp was starting to ebb with Daryl standing there, so still. So focused on the animal in his arms. “Your uh... your pet there... he okay?”

Daryl took a deep breath and shrugged, shaking his head 'no', “He will be. Come morning, he'll be fine. But right now... just gotta sit with him.” He took another breath and turned to head toward his tent, grabbing his bow as he passed it, “Enjoy your dinners. Last one you're gettin' outta me.”

…

“Yellow-throated marten,” Glenn answered absently as he drove the truck down into a rail yard. This time his bobcat friend was curled up against the base of his seat. Not quite close enough to be underfoot, but certainly too close for anyone else to get near without being hissed at. “They're native to South-East Asia. He uh... Merle got it for him. Just like Merle got me this guy.” Glenn reached down to scratch the bobcat's ears for a moment. Despite how much those gifts seemed to mean to the two of them, Glenn didn't sound particularly happy about it.

“He got a name?” Rick asked, hoping alleviate the tension. It had the opposite effect and Glenn's jaw clenched before he gave a nod, not volunteering what that name was.

Rick decided to let that go and switched topics, “I still think we should have waited for Daryl to get back before coming. It's his brother. He seems the sort to want to be here.”

“Yeah, well, we couldn't,” Glenn bit out, the anger that had been building in him finally spilling out. “So it's just the three of us. It could have been the two of us yesterday.”

The last was a pointed barb at T-Dog, who sat in the back with his hands gripping a rifle. Rick spared him a glance and saw he still had his head down. The scratches and bite marks from the marten attacking him the night before were already starting to scab. It hadn't gotten a good enough hold to do any real damage before Andrea knocked it away.

“We're here,” Glenn announced as he cut the engine. He turned in his seat to look at T-Dog, then to Rick, “You both do exactly what I say, when I say. I don't want this to go down like it did yesterday. Got it?”

…

Well, it certainly hadn't gone down like it had the day before.

They found Merle on the roof, groggy and dehydrated. More than a little hysterical. He'd been attempting to saw his own hand off. They got to him before too much damage had been done, but it would be a long time healing. Glenn cut the cuffs off with the bolt cutters and dumped out his entire back pack to find whatever he could to wrap the wound after he stitched it closed. Merle babbled, sobbing in his delirium, about ghosts and demons and blood pacts. And he was apologizing so much. To both Glenn and the bobcat. And to Daryl. Rick figured he was hallucinating some.

Glenn did everything he could to calm him down and quiet him before he managed to talk Merle into following them down another set of stairs and into the offices of the department store. They found a kitchen with a window right next to a fire escape. They could easily leave that way. And they would have if Rick hadn't suggested they go for the guns. Since Merle was taken care of (mostly), he thought it was worth trying for. They had the whole day ahead of them and they could afford to take a half hour to grab them and go.

Rick should have insisted they head back to the camp, but he wanted the bag back if he could get it. It had his walkie talkie along with the guns. Glenn had made a face, but he hadn't argued. He saw the good in getting more weapons if they could. The camp needed them. So Glenn came up with the plan. He ran in, he got the guns, he got out. But they would wait until Merle had sobered up so they could all go at once.

Only it didn't work like that because someone else grabbed Glenn. The bobcat mauled the ass of one the guys and stopped them from getting both Glenn and the gun bag. T-Dog and Rick were left with a teenage punk who decided he was going to try and play tough. Merle ended up being the one to get him talking. He was the only one the bobcat would obey in the absence of Glenn and he used that threat to it's full effect.

They ended up going in, guns loaded and ready, the bobcat barely contained. If it wasn't for the old lady walking in on them, Rick was pretty sure they would have murdered everyone. Merle seemed eager to and T-Dog was too caught up in 'making things right' with Glenn not to hold back. Rick was, too, if he was being honest.

Still, though most everything worked out for them for the day, they did waste nearly the whole of it. It was on the drive back that things got their weirdest, though. Glenn had been trying to get them back before sunset. He'd been eyeing the horizon and making a few too many mistakes as he made his way out of Atlanta and back toward the quarry. And then, a good mile out from the turn off, he just slammed his foot on the breaks and cut the engine.

He was stammering apologies, but he was also panicking to the point that he was opening the door to jump out and just leave them all there. Rick didn't even think before he grabbed Glenn's arm and hauled him backwards. Glenn fell heavily onto him while the bobcat whined. And it was Merle that ended up yelling at him, tried to haul him away from Glenn while the kid curled in on himself and passed out. At that point, Merle went quiet. He slumped against the wall, sliding to his knees. He looked utterly defeated.

Rick and T had only a moment to exchange confused looks before it happened. Before Glenn and Daryl _changed_. The sun disappeared beyond the horizon. And as the last stretch of it's light pulled out of the van's windshield, it seemed to pull Glenn with it. Like a blanket hiding something amorphous finally being tugged off to reveal it's secrets. The bobcat was pulled at just the same. The light stripped them away and left Daryl curled up near the base of the car seat, asleep with one hand stretched out toward the oddly colored animal Glenn had called a marten that now lay curled up where Glenn had been.

…

“It's my fault,” Merle admitted in a slurred whisper. He'd been nursing a bottle of whiskey for two hours, staring at the fire while Daryl hid himself and Glenn in their shared tent. Only Rick and T-Dog knew what he was talking about. It was obvious the others thought he meant getting himself cuffed to the roof from the way a few of them snorted and rolled their eyes. If Merle noticed, he didn't say anything.

They'd gotten back not long after sunset. Rick drove back, let Daryl and Glenn off long before they got to camp. Told everyone Glenn had spotted Daryl on the hunt and gone to join him. That Daryl would get him back to camp. T-Dog had supported the lie, having no real idea of how to handle it. Merle stayed quiet. They'd been welcomed back with a fish fry.

Merle sniffed and dropped his head, “I didn't want them to be together when I found out.”

The eye rolling stopped and the people gathered around looked to him in surprise. Merle didn't share things and even if he did, this was a far different confession than they'd expected. Rick cleared his throat to try and get Merle's attention. To cut him off.

Merle just ignored it and went on, “I didn't want my baby brother to be a fag, you know? That would just... he'd get in so much trouble. People would try to hurt him and then I'd have to hurt those people. I didn't want that. He was always the sweet one of the family. He didn't deserve that. Wanted to protect him.”

“Merle,” Rick cautioned, “I think you've had enough.”

“I know when I've had enough,” he objected loudly, blinking far too rapidly and swaying where he sat. “I know... I've had enough. Can't take it no more. I'd take it back if I could. I'd... let them be together properly if I could...”

Merle crumbled in on himself, but he shut up and the others looked from him to Rick. Rick rubbed his face, but it was T-Dog that spoke, “I think he's saying, he's the reason Glenn has to sleep so much.” T looked to the tent Daryl and Glenn shared, then to Merle, who looked like he'd passed out. “I think he... did something... that he can't take back.”

“So... Daryl and Glenn...” Dale led the thought but couldn't seem to finish it as his eyebrows shot up.

Rick nodded and found his voice, “Yeah. He was delirious when we found him. All he did was apologize to Glenn.”

“The guilt's eating at him,” T murmured. “Pretty sure now, that's why he gets himself high so much. He can't deal with it and... Glenn and Daryl, they aren't forcing him to.”

“That doesn't really excuse how he acts,” Andrea said as if that was the implication.

Rick shook his head, “No. Doesn't excuse it. But it gives us a point to start with if we want to try and help.”

“Do we?” Dale asked.

Rick let out a long breath and stood up, walking around the fire to Merle's side, lifting one arm over his shoulder, “I suppose that's up for each of you to decide for yourselves. I know what I'm deciding. I'll see you in the morning.”

With that, he did his best to drag the man back to his tent and his brother. He had some things to talk to Daryl about and he'd do the same in the morning when Glenn came back to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This one will be revisited after the month is over.


End file.
